ever thought about not thinking

i never could write poetry, but this kinda sums up the feeling du jour.
it's by W.B. Yeats

== Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven==

Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

==

posted by stark @ 2:42 AM